Children of the Night
by brontefanatic
Summary: Listen to them - Children of the night. What music they make. Kahlan doesn't trust the newest member of the Merry Band - her spidey senses are tingling. AU at the end of "Extinction". Darken does not escape from Team Seeker.


**Children of the Night**

A/N - This is an AU set toward the end of the second season episode "Extinction". What if Darken Rahl would not have escaped from Richard and company, but was forced to tag along as their prisoner.

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><p><em>I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which<br>I dare not confess to my own soul._

_Listen to them, Children of the night. What music they make._

Bram Stoker - Dracula

Kahlan jolted into awareness, heart thudding against her chest, skin prickling with dread.

She was being watched.

The moonless night enveloped her like a shroud. The surrounding forest teemed with quiet menace.

Senses honed to a razor's edge by months of traveling and fighting at Richard's side, she lay unmoving, trying to ascertain the danger. She was slightly comforted by the sight of her daggers within arm's reach.

Kahlan eye's surveyed the clearing searching for her companions. Cara sat on the far side of the smoldering fire, knees drawn up to her chest. The Mord'Sith was alert but seemed undisturbed. Richard and Zedd snored peacefully a few feet away from her.

After they had set up camp the previous evening, Kahlan had sought retreat from her companions, wanting some time for herself and had fallen asleep under the comfort of the trees She was regretting that decision now.

She chided herself for having an overactive imagination. Everything was fine. They had all been on edge these past few days, racing against time to find the Stone of Tears and take it to the Pillars of Creation.

Then the hairs on the back of her neck raised.

Somebody was missing.

The newest – very reluctant – member of their Merry Band, as he so scathingly referred to them.

"Behind you," he said quietly, as if reading her thoughts.

How could he have known she was awake?

"Disturbed by bad dreams, Mother Confessor?" he asked softly. "I understand the feeling. I'm always ready to lend a sympathetic ear if you wish to confide your troubles."

Kahlan turned to face him, reaching for her dagger and rising to her feet in one fluid motion.

Leaning against a tree, regarding her steadily, was Darken Rahl, ex-ruler of D'Haran and ex-servant of the Keeper, sitting in the dirt, still clad in the filthy rags inherited from his hapless body-double, Walter. He managed to seem dangerous even in the most unlikely circumstances.

"What do you think you're doing, Rahl? How did you get away from the others?" Kahlan hissed venomously, stalking up to him. She itched to slit his throat, but contented herself with placing the tip of her blade under his chin. "I want you to leave me alone." Even to her ears it sounded a little ridiculous considering their respective situations.

Darken seemed unperturbed at being held at dagger's point.

"Aren't you being a little disingenuous, Kahlan? **You're** the one with the dagger," he drawled. "I didn't escape from anyone. I needed to stretch my legs. Then while I was sitting here, bound and helpless, minding my own business, you walked over without any provocation and put a dangerous weapon to my throat." He held up his trussed wrists, demonstrating his lowly status.

"I do hope you're not feeling too bloodthirsty," he added contemplatively. "I don't think my little brother would be pleased if anything happened to me. I just might be forced to tell the Keeper about your plans for the Stone of Tears, and that wouldn't be to anyone's advantage now, would it?"

"That's the only thing that's stopping me," she muttered, taking the blade away from his neck, and allowing him to struggle to his feet.

"Are you sure about that Kahlan?" he purred infuriatingly. She wanted to slap him.

"I thought that you and I had a deeper connection," he continued insinuatingly. "During our first meeting at the Keep of Edron, I recall provoking a rather – intense – response from you. It was certainly one I'll never forget."

"At Edron I ordered your own people to kill you after you threatened Richard," she gritted through clenched teeth. "They would have succeeded in doing so if you hadn't run away like the coward you were – and are."

Darken was no longer smiling. "At Edron, I bested your precious Richard in every way, physically and mentally, as well as single-handedly destroying the guards you turned against me. Richard was pathetic and incompetent. His woman had to save him," he snarled. "But you're not really his woman are you, Kahlan? Not in any true sense of the word. Although I don't know how he could be any more whipped than he already is, even without being confessed."

"A creature like you can't possibly understand Richard's love for me, or mine for him," she retorted.

"I doubt if many warm-blooded human beings are capable of understanding your relationship," Darken mused. "You and my brother are a study in masochism, torturing yourselves and each other to no purpose."

"You are the last Confessor, Kahlan. Tell me, assuming that the Keeper is defeated, when it's time to start producing all of those new little Confessors, are you and Richard going to be holding hands while some poor confessed slave sweats over you doing all the work? Will you both be crying tragic tears during the conception?"

The blow caught him so hard that the back of his skull ricocheted against the tree trunk. Shaking his head groggily, Darken managed a rueful grin. "You are so magnificent in your hatred, Kahlan. But all of that pent up frustration has to have some way of expressing itself, I suppose." He looked upon her with sincere admiration.

She flushed under his gaze, reminding herself of how much he disgusted her. "I am **not** frustrated. I understand my duty to my people, and will perform that duty. Which is more than you can say," she spat. "I doubt that people will be dancing in the streets at my death."

"It's a little premature to assume that, Mother Confessor. I have learned that one can never predict the future with any accuracy," he said tightly. "I think even you would agree that my death was not an unqualified success for your side."

His face stung. She had a strong right hook.

Kahlan was eyeing Darken like a sparrow watches a hawk, which was very intriguing, considering that right now she had every physical advantage.

All that fire and beauty, so wasted on a man who didn't know what to do with it.

"Kahlan, there is only one man who has the strength, intelligence and cunning to match yours, and only one man who is immune to your touch. If you can't admit that to yourself, then you are even more of a hypocrite than I gave you credit for. If we were united, nothing could stop us."

"Don't flatter yourself," she scoffed. "You are nothing now. You have no magic. You don't even have your own body. You have lost your throne and your power. You don't even have a home."

"But I'm still not beaten. I refuse to admit defeat," he snapped back. "I always have a plan and I never give up."

"All very desirable qualities in a mate, wouldn't you agree?" he quipped.

"You're deluded," she retorted smugly. "Once the Keeper has been vanquished, you'll be useless and we can finally rid ourselves of you."

Kahlan was surprised by Darken's laughter. "Confessor, do you really believe that tender-hearted Richard would kill his only brother," he smirked. "If I can't gain D'Hara back on my own, then I will make myself quite indispensible to Richard Rahl. My brother will need a wise advisor who can assist him in negotiating the pitfalls of monarchy. I plan to be around for a very long time whatever happens."

Darken eyes burned into hers. "But don't worry, Kahlan, I'm sure that the three of us will find a way to come to a mutually advantageous arrangement. You might even enjoy sharing a home with two men rather than one. Somebody **has** to keep you satisfied."

She launched herself at him, slashing out blindly with her dagger.

**Finally!**

Darken was beginning to worry that she would never lose control.

Easily stepping aside from her misguided strike, he turned around as her blade bit harmlessly into wood and Kahlan's momentum flung her against the tree. Hoping to take advantage of her momentary helplessness but severely hampered by his bound wrists, Darken reached up with both hands to yank the dagger out of the bark.

But the Confessor was too fast for him.

Just as he managed to claim the first weapon, he felt the cold blade of a second one against his cheek. Reacting instinctively, he brought his arms down over Kahlan's head and shoulders, pulling her tightly against him.

A potentially suicidal move, but one worth the risk.

For an endless moment they stood locked together, neither quite sure what to do next.

"I just want my freedom, Kahlan," he mumured, his lips almost brushing against hers. "Release me and I promise to help you - in every way."

Darken could feel her body trembling against his.

"Kahlan, why do you fight against me so hard?" he asked gently, breathing in her scent, longing to bury his face in her hair. "I can give you pleasure in ways you cannot even imagine. I **want** to please you."

She was panting with hatred and fear. But so many other conflicting emotions were coursing through her that she was left feeling lost and confused. The grip on her weapon slackened in her shaking hand.

"We are so alike, you and I." Darken's voice caressed her. "Your darkness matched to mine. I understand things about you that Richard will never accept – you know that. Why deny yourself the chance to explore what you truly are?"

"We are creatures of the night, Kahlan. Let Richard have the sun."

For a few terrifying seconds she felt her hatred drain away, leaving her with nothing to hold on to but his warm strong body. Kahlan let herself lean against this man, this enemy, who was tempting her with words that called forth a raw and howling hunger that had been repressed for years.

A part of her craved what he offered, longed for it with an intensity that made her hate herself, and made her hate him even more for forcing her admit the desire.

Kahlan teetered on the brink of a terrifying chasm, aching to toss aside the iron control instilled in her by years of training and self-denial.

Then – she backed away from the edge.

Darken felt her spine straightening under his hand as she braced herself away from him.

_I am the Mother Confessor_, Kahlan reminded herself sternly. _I love and serve Richard Cypher, the Seeker of Truth._

Darken Rahl was her implacable enemy.

If she lost hold of these certainties, the truths that she had built her life around, if she let the lines blur, then Kahlan knew she would lose her very self.

The dagger blade bit sharply into his cheek. "Let me go or you'll wish that I **had** sent you to the Keeper," she demanded coldly.

Sighing with resignation and regret, Darken raised his arms, permitting Kahlan to slip out of and away from his embrace.

"We're going over to the fire now, and don't ever try to approach me again," Kahlan ordered.

"Don't play the victim, Kahlan. It doesn't suit you," Darken said dryly. "You and I both know who was in control of our little encounter."

He paused for a moment, gazing at her thoughtfully. "Tell me, Kahlan, why didn't you ever call out for Richard while you were caught in my evil clutches?"

She stared back at him, furious, refusing to answer.

He nodded his head. "That's what I thought," he said quietly. "There will be other nights, Kahlan, and I warned you – I never give up.


End file.
